


Not Quite

by equestrianstatue



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 10:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equestrianstatue/pseuds/equestrianstatue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam does not know that today is the day that something will almost happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite

**Author's Note:**

> First posted to martianholiday in December 2007.

Sam does not know that today is the day that something will almost happen. For a world he's created, he's pretty clueless about it, to be honest. It is a perfectly ordinary day in sunny 1973 – apart, possibly, from how sunny it is; the first break in a long week of rain, and Sam will remember this, because he comments on it, and Gene is uninterested. But weather anomalies aside, the day is almost painfully normal, down to Sam's brave attempts at introducing more efficient procedure, and Gene's staunch resistance.

"What about the witness we interviewed?" says Sam, possibly not for the first time. "Details, remember. Everything he said. You never know what's going to be important."

"Yeah," says Gene, "but he was a waste of space."

"That's not the point. It was an exercise in detailed note-taking."

"And I bloody did it, didn't I? Sat there scribbling in my little book looking like an idiot."

"I've seen your notes," says Sam. "You wrote _docks, 2am, he's a div and he knows nothing_ , and then the rest of the page was covered in pictures of cars."

"I've seen yours," retorts Gene. "You got distracted too. You did half a page of every stupid word that came out of his mouth, and then you started writing stuff I didn't even understand. Who's Noky when he's at home, and why are you so keen on him? Some singer?"

"It's Nokia," says Sam, hotly, "and that's irrelevant."

And so on, and so on. They argue their way through the station and all the way to the pub, where, with the aid of alcohol, the argument meanders into good-natured bickering; and then, with the aid of more alcohol, meanders back into an argument all over again, although neither of them is entirely sure why it started or what their point is.

Still, this is not strange: voices raised on the way home, angry words and lack of judgment, degenerating eventually into swings at each other; some of them missing, some of them connecting, until eventually they tumble into an alley near the back of the pub. "Come on then," says Sam, and goes to punch Gene in the gut while Gene pushes him backwards.

It's all a bit of a mess, because Gene has pinned Sam to the wall really rather effectively, but Sam's not halted by his lack of upper limb use, and is busy trying to knee Gene wherever he can, Gene trying to get another punch in somewhere; and now this is beyond what usually happens, a couple of smacks each way: this is pure untamed physicality, a struggle between them that just goes on and on and on. And then one of them or both of them gets confused in the heat of the moment, and it all goes a bit wrong, because Sam thinks he might be kissing Gene and Gene might be kissing him back.

They wrench apart and stare at each other, and Gene's eyes are wild, and Sam thinks he probably looks the same. Neither of them has let go, and this is insane, but then again, it doesn't feel any less natural than the fight, and Gene is still holding on, why is Gene still holding on, he should have run away by now, because –

"Come on then," says Sam, pulse racing, and he feels like anything could happen, "come on."

"You're mad," says Gene, with the air of a madman. Sam knows exactly how he feels. Gene is gripping his collar, and it hurts quite a bit, but he doesn't really care.

"Come on," says Sam (again, because he's not great with words right now), "here, no strings, pretend it's not real."

"You can't just say that something's not real."

"Yes I can. You want this," says Sam, and he can almost feel Gene's pulse inside him beating with his.

"No," says Gene, but he hasn't let go.

And then Sam thrusts forward, and he honestly isn't sure if he's going to headbutt Gene or kiss him again. Either fortunately or unfortunately, it definitely ends up as a kiss, and Gene presses into him and they keep going, and Gene's a pretty bad liar, evidently, because they draw apart breathless and needing, and Sam says, "Gene," and Gene says, "Yes."

So they struggle, again, only it's Gene trying to push off Sam's jacket and Sam fumbling with Gene's zip and the coat keeps getting in the way, but never mind that, because this is new, but it makes sense.

"See, all your male bonding, your physical contact, it's always been leading here – you don't beat any of the others up nearly as much – "

"They don't go out of their way to piss me off," says Gene, through gritted teeth, tugging at Sam's belt like he's hoping to inflict as much pain on it as possible.

"Still," says Sam, panting, "if a punch to the kidneys is your idea of flirting, I'd hate to think how you met your wife."

And then Gene lets go, leaving Sam's belt unbuckled, shoving him back into the wall, and turns away. "I don't – "

Sam holds up his hands, and breathes deeply for what feels like the first time in a while. "Sorry. No outside world, no strings."

But Gene's lost it, rationalising, and his eyes have changed, closing off again. "Just – no, Sam, I don't know what you even think you're – we're – this is wrong."

"Gene, don't – "

"Sam. No."

And it ends there. Gene walks away, and Sam will remember this, relive it over and over, until he only remembers remembering it and isn't sure if he's got all the parts of it right any more. He will wonder if it was inevitable, whether or not it was a mistake to start or a mistake to stop. He will think that Gene hates him for it, but he will be wrong. They will not mention it again.


End file.
